Impatience

To accompany the recent bleak weather, I have had a long period of head cold and at work, assessment. Thursday was to be my first day off for some time. 

The forecast was for soft sunshine.

I had arranged to get my hair cut at last, to have coffee with Graham, a walk with Rosie.

But at 7.30am, before I had even achieved my planned lie-in, the doorbell awakened me from sleep.

A paramedic had brought Nigel home after a cycling accident on his way to work.

He had banged his head and cut his face, and suffered some concussion but, thanks to the helmet, was otherwise unharmed.

I cancelled my hair appointment and coffee with Graham and spent the morning in A & E.  At least I caught up on some marking.

The doctor was reassuring, but I should keep an eye on Nigel for twenty-four hours following a head injury.

I cancelled the walk with Rosie.

Nigel wanted taking into town in order to replace his broken glasses. 

But the “quick trip to get a quote for the insurance” turned into an hour and a quarter of buying new glasses. 

I hadn’t brought my marking with me this time.

I became grumpy.

Later, when it was time for Pilates, I went anyway.

I whinged to the others about my disappointing day. 

“Oh,” said James, “Lots of people seem to have been having bike accidents recently – one of my friends smashed his pelvis.  Another shattered his knee.”

And that was when I realised it was time to make the gear-shift from “resentful” to “grateful that God was watching over us.”